


The Once and Future King

by Clea2011



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Against all odds, Communication Failure, Humour, Kings & Queens, M/M, Modern Royalty, Mpreg, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Pendragon glowered at the smarmy little man sitting in front of him.  "What do you mean, there's been a mistake?"</p><p>Or what happens when you think you're king and then, suddenly, you're not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Once and Future King

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Trope Bingo round 3 postage stamp for the 4 prompts: Against all odds/poor communication skills/power dynamics/ au:royalty
> 
> (I know it would take a bit more than this to depose a king, but this isn't intended as a serious piece.)
> 
> Also, my lovely friend and fellow procrastinator Elveatas has done a fab and fun remix of this. Go read it and leave her all the love!

Arthur Pendragon glowered at the smarmy little man sitting in front of him. "What do you mean, there's been a mistake?"

George Smart was very, very good at his job. So good that he didn't just keep up to date with the current royals. Oh no, he kept up to date with _all_ of them. All the king's ancestors, as far back as was humanly possible without some sort of TARDIS. (George would have liked a TARDIS, it would have made his job considerably easier). He was particularly excited by his latest findings, and had thought the king would want to know immediately. After all, he was always making speeches about how he was a man of the people, and how much he felt in tune with the common man. Small wonder, seeing as it had now transpired that he was one himself.

"A mistake, Sire... oh, I mean Arthur.   Force of habit, sorry."

Arthur's scowl deepened. Beside him, George noticed that Lord Monmouth was looking just a little smug. It was no secret that the new king's reign was a little too... modern... for Monmouth's liking.

"Explain it again."

"It's polite to say please," Monmouth told him. "You know, when you're not actually the king and have to be governed by the same rules as the rest of us."

Arthur glared at him, then back at George. "I _am_ the king! My father was the king, my grandfather, great-grandmother and great-great however many back fathers... they were all kings and queens. All of them."

"Actually, no," George told him. Arthur had, he thought, turned quite an interesting colour. "Your great great great great great great great great great," he paused for breath, counted back in his head to make sure he'd got it right, then continued. "Great great great grandfather, Tiberius Pendragon was, it turns out, married to a man. Lucinda was in fact Lucius and so, obviously, they couldn't possibly have had any offspring. Goodness knows where they found Cornelius. It must have been quite a performance, having the so-called Lucinda actually pretending to be pregnant. So. Line ended with him. I've done some research and the rightful ruler of Albion is in fact Morgana Gorlois."

"That harpy from the chat shows?" Arthur exploded. "Queen? Over my dead body!"

"Unnecessary, as you're not actually in line to the throne. And, of course, given your own preferences, it's probably a useful turn of events as now at least we'll get some heirs. Anyway," he handed over a thin folder and a memory stick. "Here's copies of your qualifications, national insurance and NHS cards, P45, details of a small bank account we've set up with what I think is generous compensation for your inconvenience, and a month's free accommodation at a Premier Inn while you sort yourself out. We've moved anything we thought you'd need into the room there, and even thrown in breakfast. Off you go."

"But I'm the _king..._ " Arthur protested.

George shook his head. "No," he said. He smiled at Monmouth, who nodded approvingly. George really was _excellent_ at his job.

\---

The Premier Inn was probably nice enough, and if Arthur hadn't been feeling so dejected he would most likely have enjoyed the comfortable bed and the view of the rolling countryside from outside his window. He had been there for five days.

Usually, Arthur would be told when to get up. He would be told what to wear and what he was going to do that day. On most occasions he would not spend a single moment of the day alone from the second he stepped out of the shower (and really, servants were much better than towel rails) to the moment his manservant pulled back the covers, bowed deeply, and left him to it.

Doing whatever you wanted was quite difficult.

Had he not been the ex-king, perhaps it would have been easier. But now he had to move around without a bodyguard to protect him against the teenage girls who had camped outside the inn, all of whom didn't actually care that he wasn't king any more because they loved him anyway. He knew that. They had large banners proclaiming it and they kept sending him messages.

So, he couldn't really go out. Worse, half the staff seemed to be of a similar mind to the girls outside, and so far he'd been propositioned by two of the night staff, three cleaners and the delivery boy from Dominoes who had brought him his pizza (and hadn't working out how to order that been fun?).

So, the room was now in need of a clean, Arthur was going stir crazy, and on top of it all he was absolutely starving. He couldn't go out to the restaurant because it was on the other side of the car park and based in a busy pub, and he didn't think his brain could cope with the thought of another pizza turning up courtesy of a half-naked delivery driver.

He did what any sensible person would do.   He called 999. Because it was an emergency, right?

Apparently not, the embarrassed inn manager and the irritated policeman told him, and being an ex-celebrity didn't entitle him to waste police time. Arthur wasn't an ex-celebrity, he was the ex-king, and he told them as much. The policeman threatened to charge him with wasting police time, then left, though to be fair he did also get the crowd of girls to move on. Which they did. For at least an hour.

The manager was a little more helpful. Mostly because his inn had never, ever been so fully booked and the restaurant/pub had never been so popular. He liked having Arthur staying there.

"I'll assign you a helper," he promised.

And that was how Arthur Pendragon met Merlin Emrys, servant, disaster area and saviour of the modern monarchy.

Merlin was, quite possibly the worst servant Arthur had ever had. It didn't help that Merlin found the term servant offensive and therefore probably endeavoured to _ensure_ that he was the worst ever. It also didn't help that Arthur kept informing him of the fact that his service was dire and that he wouldn't last a moment in the palace. That particular line stopped as soon as Merlin reminded him that 'Neither did you. Sire.' The last word was spoken with so much sarcasm that Arthur decided that perhaps he should stop mentioning it.

Merlin was always late when Arthur rang for him. He forgot things that Arthur wanted in his food orders (Arthur suspected he ate the missing items on the way up, because sometimes there was evidence on his lips. Not that Arthur looked at his lips because Merlin was the worst servant ever). He did a half-hearted job of cleaning the room, he brought up photos that the girls wanted signed (and Arthur suspected he had a nice little sideline in selling some of those that he'd 'forgotten' the personalised name for) and he grumbled and complained. All the time.

Weeks passed. Arthur had quite forgotten that he was only to stay at the inn for a month, and it was quite a shock when the receptionist rang up and told him that as he hadn't checked out he was going to be charged for another night and should they put it on his card?

Arthur had given his card to Merlin in order to buy food, drink, clothes (because really, the things that had been taken from the palace and left in his room were _awful_. He wouldn't dress a monkey in them, let alone the rightful king) and anything else that took Arthur's fancy. Quite a few things had taken Arthur's fancy, stuck alone in a hotel room all day.

Apparently there was now a problem with the card.

It was Merlin's fault, of course. Merlin protested that it was Arthur's fault, that Arthur should have told him there was a limit on it because how was he supposed to know that the ex-king wasn't exactly rich any more? It would have descended into a full on fight with hair-pulling and everything, but just then the manager knocked on the door, told Arthur he could stay one more night as a goodwill gesture (and probably because of all that extra revenue he'd brought in) and told Merlin that his temporary position had now finished and he could go home.

It wasn't the best afternoon for either of them.

"How can _you_ be broke?" Merlin complained as soon as the manager left. "You were the king! You must have billions!"

"Apparently, _Mer-_ lin, I was never supposed to be king. In fact, about 15 generations of my ancestors were never meant to be king or queen either. Don't you read the papers?"

"I've been too busy running round after you! Clean this, Merlin, buy this Merlin, feed me Merlin... You probably still are king but your servants all staged a revolt. And you'd think someone would have noticed whatever it was that suddenly stopped you being king. What was it?"

Arthur sighed wearily, fed up with the story by now. "King Tiberius was married to Lucius, not Lucinda as everyone thought. So Cornelius was found under a hedge or something. Anyway, that's why my horrendous fourth cousin or whatever Morgana is to me is now awaiting her completely over the top coronation. And before you say it, yes I know mine was too. They all are. That's what people make you do when you're king."

Merlin frowned. "Why do they think Cornelius was found under a hedge?"

It wasn't quite the response Arthur had been expecting. Despite his many other faults, Arthur hadn't actually got Merlin marked down as being stupid.

"Did you not hear what I said? Lucius was Tiberius's husband. Therefore no offspring. Honestly, don't you know anything?" To emphasise how very, very stupid he thought Merlin was, he rolled his eyes. Because _really!_

Merlin was looking at him thoughtfully. "But... Lucius was a sorcerer."

"He was _not._ "

Merlin looked at him pityingly. "Now who doesn't know anything? Lucius was a sorcerer. It's a well-known fact.   The single most ridiculous thing about the Pendragon kings and their hatred of magic users is that they're all descended from one."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Yes, that's what I just said!" Merlin rolled his eyes in what Arthur thought was a very poor impression of him.

"And impossible!"

"It's unusual," Merlin admitted. "But it happens. Or it used to." He pulled a little blue card out of his pocket and waved it in Arthur's face. "I have to carry one of these all the time because of your father. I can't get a proper job because of this thing and his unfair laws. And, as a gay man, I can't ever have children because your great great great however many times grandparent made it illegal and tried to wipe any mention of it from history. It's a pity that they didn't think to at least pass the knowledge down on through the family."

A pity indeed, and it was also rather ironic how badly _that_ communication failure had backfired on the Pendragons, Arthur mused. Still, this was hopeful. And, he mused, looking at Merlin in a whole different light, not altogether unpleasant. In fact, not at all unpleasant.

"So," he considered. "You're a magic user."

Merlin glared at him. "What are you going to do about it? Lock me up in the tower? You can't. And Queen Morgana is going to lift the ban on magic, she's said so."    

"Probably not the ban on having magical children though, as that would invalidate her reign," Arthur pointed out.

"Understandable. And I can live with it, the whole being pregnant thing sounds pretty uncomfortable anyway." Merlin picked up a stack of photos from the table. "Can you just sign these before I go? I probably won't be working again for a while, thanks to your family and everything, so at least this will help."

"No." Arthur was still contemplating him. "I think we'll try something else. How would you like to have a royal title? Prince or something like that? Spend the rest of your life being waited on and waving at people?"

Merlin held out the pen. "Sign. You're forgetting you're not the king. You can't make anyone a prince or a duke or anything else. And the waving sounds tedious."

"I could," Arthur pointed out, ignoring the comment about waving which was an acquired skill and it was probably going to take Merlin _ages_ to get the hang of it. "If I turn up at the palace with a pregnant male consort..."

Merlin paled slightly, and clutched the photos to his chest. "Who... were you thinking of that being?" he asked in a small voice.

Arthur smiled.

\---

George Smart was extremely good at his job. He prided himself on not only cleaning the toilets on the surface, but ensuring they were deep down clean as well. They were the cleanest toilets anywhere in the kingdom, very suitable for the esteemed King Arthur and his rapidly expanding and increasingly grumpy consort.

Hopefully one day, George thought, the king would forget about his teensy, tiny mistake in his previous job. King Arthur might look upon him with a little more favour and George would get promoted to cleaning the sinks or something.

One day...

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Saviour of the Modern Monarchy (The Once and Future King Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067840) by [Elveatas (Ricecake)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricecake/pseuds/Elveatas)




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